


A Beauty by Any Other Name

by AlexRyzlinGold



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Azkaban, Bit of Ron hate but not in every chapter, F/F, Temporary Character Death, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-04-15
Packaged: 2019-11-05 23:32:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 15,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17928464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexRyzlinGold/pseuds/AlexRyzlinGold
Summary: Finding her soulmate should of made Hermione happy. Instead she would be forced to journey down a rabbit hole of different worlds where only one thing was the same. Bellatrix.





	1. Azkaban Inmates

Meeting her soul mate had nearly destroyed Hermione. It was meant to be one of the happiest days of her life and instead it was the first day she was nearly killed by death eaters. One of those death eaters was her soul mate.

She hadn't been certain who, except that it thankfully wasn't Lucius Malfoy. Thank Merlin that she'd been in the same room as him before then and therefore the tattoo that manifested that day would not be echoed on his slimy skin.

It was a simple tattoo. Black with thick, bold lines. A sword with a crown around its hilt. The crown was her. Hermione was the name of a princess after all, and a sword was very much  _ not _ her thing.  It appeared on the inside of her right wrist and reached halfway up her forearm. She had felt it appear, but hadn't taken the time to look. Not when the emergence of her soul mate mark also meant that they were no longer alone in the department of mysteries. Thankfully her arm was covered, so no one else would know.

They had all survived the department of mysteries, and Hermione had covered her new tattoo from then on. Glamours or long sleeves, it didn't matter. All that mattered was that no one find out she had found her soulmate.

There would be too many awkward questions, and Hermione didn't even have an answer to the most important one.

Who? Who was her soulmate? Which death eater did the universe pair her with in it's sick and twisted idea of love? She had an inkling, of course. It wasn't until their year on the run that Hermione was proven correct.

Bellatrix Lestrange never saw Hermione's tattoo, but Hermione saw Bellatrix's. At the base of her neck, and flowing onto the top of her spine sat a sword with a crown looped around the hilt. It had been an accident. Bellatrix had stormed away from her before turning back suddenly. Her hair flicked to the side as she turned and Hermione saw it.

Her tears were as much for the realisation as they were for the curse flowing through her body.

Then they'd been saved by Dobby, and the hollow feeling Hermione carried wasn't from her torture or Dobby's death. Getting into Bellatrix's vault was easy. The doors didn't even require a key, they just opened at her touch. Good thing the boys had no idea what that meant. They probably assumed that the polyjuice potion somehow fooled the magic in Gringotts. In the future she'd use her tattoo to get into the vault and gain access to a variety of dark books. The goblins would be the keepers of that particular secret.

She sought Bellatrix out at the battle of Hogwarts. If she was going to die today, then it she would die making sure her soulmate damn well knew who she was. She never got the chance. She found Bellatrix alright, flinging curses and cackling in glee. She never had a chance to approach her. 

A figure appeared in a swirl of dark smoke. They wore a cloak, hood up covering their face. Bellatrix was obviously surprised, but she didn't have the chance to fight back. The figure placed their wand to Bellatrix's temple and she collapsed. She was caught by the figure before she hit the ground and then they were gone in a plume of dark smoke. 

All that was left was a time turner that clattered to the ground. Hermione took it, and never told a soul about what she had seen. Not even when Harry and Ron came back from another fake Bellatrix sighting, frustrated at her evading them once more.

Voldemort was dead, every death eater besides Bellatrix was caught and the world was perfect.

Except it wasn't. Not for Hermione. She still had a soul mark. Bellatrix was alive, and now people had seen it. Quite by accident, but they knew now that she belonged to another. At least it stopped Ron from pursuing her.

Hermione couldn't concentrate, she couldn't work. Bellatrix became all consuming. Where in the world was she? There were no leads. Well, that wasn't quite true. There was one.

Hermione fiddled with the timer turner around her neck. It was different than any she had seen before. It didn't mark hours, but weeks. It was an oddity, and Hermione spent far too much time in the Lestrange vault trying to read up on it. She failed to find any information but it was her best hope.

Maybe she could go back and stop Bellatrix's abduction. Or at the very least, put a trace on her. Something. Anything to free her mind from thoughts of Bellatrix.

She didn't notice the curse on the time turner flaring to life until it was too late. It wasn't time she travelled through.

/////

The call for fresh meat came combined with the rattling of cell doors. Bellatrix had taken part once, but now she focused more on blocking it out. Seven years of this shit and it was still the same.

The hoots and taunting cries stopped suddenly. Bellatrix's eyes snapped open and she sat up from her annoyingly uncomfortable cot. The warden stood outside her cell door, a guard at his side. The guard held an unconscious woman.

“Stay away from the door, ninety-three.”

A grin curled across Bellatrix's face. The warden was scared of her. She knew he was.

“Have you bought me a toy?” She whispered.

The warden couldn't quite suppress the shudder that ran down his spine. Bellatrix cackled, and the guard quickly made to deposit the woman on the spare cot in Bellatrix's cell. Oh she didn't like this one bit, but she couldn't let them know that. A strange tingle started at the back of her neck. She reached up to itch it.

“Oh, I think we'll have a lot of fun together. I need someone to plait my hair. It gets so unmanageable.”

The warden left without another word, just a disgusted look.

Bellatrix rushed over to the other woman. Carefully she lifted a finger, and shoved it not too gently into the other woman's cheek. She didn't respond. The woman was truly out of it.

Her hair was curly, and dark brown possibly black. It was hard to tell in the dim light of Azkaban. She was pretty with soft skin. The bags under eyes gave away a hidden tension. Though no one came to Azkaban without some sort of pain. Tattooed darkly across her neck what's the number one hundred and nine. Seven years and they only had seventeen new inmates. Seven years and Bellatrix had never had a roommate. she hated it but she wouldn't let the others see. If she was lucky the woman would never wake up. If she had the energy she would make sure the woman never did wake up.

/////

Hermione woke with a start. She was cold, uncomfortable and her head hurt. Flashes of a life she hadn't lived filled her head. 

The philosopher's stone, but no Quirrel. Meeting Sirius the holidays she spent with Harry's family. Lily and James Potter grinning at her, happy that Harry is making friends. A begrudging friendship with Ron, since they were both friends with Harry. Coming to her for homework help. The Triwizard Tournament, but without Harry competing. Congratulating Viktor on his win. Sending letters over the summer. It would never work between them, but she had made a new friend.

Ron asking her out.

Accepting one date. One turned into two, into three. It went on far too long.

“Who else is going to want to date you?”

“He didn't mean it, he's a good guy. You could do worse.”

Ron proposing. Hermione accepting.

Making dinner while Ron complained that it wasn't ready yet.

She worked too much. Molly disapproved, her place was at home.

Ron coming home late on their anniversary, smelling like fire whiskey.

“I'll celebrate an anniversary when you actually marry me!”

Finding out he had cheated on her.

“I don't approve of my son's actions, but you can work through it, Hermione. Marriage is based off of compromise. Besides, boys will be boys.”

Ron refusing to talk about it.

“If you weren't so damn work obsessed and frigid, I wouldn't have wandered. It's not my fault!”

Finding out Lavender Brown was having Ron's baby. Finding out from Molly.

“I know it's not nice to hear, dear. But I'm so excited! My first grandbaby!”

Crucio.

Crucio.

Crucio.

He begged. He promised to get better. He promised to kill the baby. Just as long as she stopped.

She did.

Avada Kedavra!

They weren't her memories, not really. They were this Hermione's memories. This Hermione knew about it. About time turner's with curses, and jumping between worlds. She had been an Unspeakable before…. before Ron.

Before she killed Ron.

Hermione sat up, and hand over her mouth as bile rose in her throat.

“If you throw up in my cell I will make you clean the mess with your tongue.”

Hermione jerked her head to the side. She was in a cell. It was damp and cold. Azkaban. She'd been here before. No. Yes. No, the other Hermione had. For work. To interrogate prisoners. Yes, she was both of them now.

She had a shared cell. That was unusual. She had a shared cell with Bellatrix Lestrange. That was even more unusual.

“Cat got your tongue, pet?”

Hermione let out a high pitched giggle, and Bellatrix's gaze darkened.

“Great, they gave me an insane one.”

She couldn't have helped it. Here she was, searching for her version of Bellatrix, and now she was locked inside a cell with one. Again, that was strange. Why was she sharing a cell? That wasn't normal Azkaban operating procedure. Unless…

“I'm not insane. At least, not yet. It's just funny, they couldn't bring themselves to give me a death sentence so they stuck me in here with you.”

Bellatrix frowned. “What?”

“They expect you to kill me, or for me to kill you. Either way they wouldn't mind.”

“Why would I kill you? And how could you possibly know that's their plan?”

Hermione slumped back onto her cot.

“Because I'm in your cell. Because I'm a muggleborn. Because I killed a pureblood. Because I'm annoying. As for how I know, I worked for the Ministry.”

Bellatrix stiffened. “Doing what?”

Hermione turned her head and gave Bellatrix a pointed look. “I can't tell you.”

Bellatrix nodded in understanding and turned away. The thought had been there of course, to hurt the woman who now sat in her cell. It was  _ her _ cell after all. They didn't speak for the rest of the day and night.

/////

“What's your name anyway?”

Hermione jerked awake. Bellatrix was leaning over her.

“What the fuck?”

“That's a weird name.”

“Get out of my face, Bellatrix!”

Bellatrix cocked her head to the side, a dark frown covering her face.

“I never told you my name.”

Hermione huffed and shoved the other woman away, but Bellatrix only stumbled a few steps.

Snickers came from further down the hall, along with calls predicting Hermione's death. It was very tempting to put the woman in her place, but Bellatrix suspected she was right. They wanted one or both of them to die in this cell, and she'd be damned if she was going to give them a show.

“We’ve been over this. Work kept me well informed.” Hermione hissed.

She rubbed a hand over her face, and sighed.

“Hermione Granger. My name is Hermione Granger.”

“Well, Hermione Granger, good to meet you. Welcome to Azkaban. I hope you enjoy your stay.”

Hermione groaned and lay back down on her cot. She closed her eyes.

“The food is shit, and the front desk was down right rude. Not to mention, I think the security here are perverts. Who do I complain to?”

Bellatrix let out a pearl of laughter. She hadn't done that in a long time. The dementors would probably suck the fun out of the memory when they fed later that week.

“You're alright, Granger.”

“That is so very comforting coming from a woman who tortured her husband into insanity.” Hermione sighed. “Not that I can speak.”

Bellatrix ran her tongue across her teeth.

“Soooooo…”

“Yes?”

“You killed a pureblood. Your husband, I'm guessing. Anyone I'd know?”

“Ugh. He was my fiance, not my husband. His name was Ronald Weasley.”

Bellatrix let out a snort. “A Weasley? Well that just doesn't count! No one cares about Weasleys.”

Hermione didn't respond, but a small smile did curve over her lips.

/////

They spent the rest of the week alternating between chatting quietly and ignoring each other. Azkaban bought out everyone's darkest thoughts. Hermione told the story of her life, and it blurred so much that sometimes she couldn't tell if the story was from her original life or this one. Sleep deprivation did that to you. It didn't matter though, they were truly one and the same now. Perhaps it was unfair to the Hermione that had lived this life previously, but really, she'd done this to herself.

Well, no that wasn't quite fair. It seemed in this world, without Voldemort to focus on, her two best friends were a little more ready to discard and ignore her. She wanted to say it was unreasonable, but really Hermione didn't blame the other her as much as she should. She had been pushed to an edge, and she had refused to jump alone.

Bellatrix didn't like to talk about herself, but Hermione was able to pull some stories out of her. Eventually she told the story of her husband's torture. It wasn't pretty, but all it left Hermione with was rage for Rodolphus Lestrange. If the man still had half a mind she'd have been tempted to escape Azkaban just to torture him herself. How dare he try to touch her soulmate?

“We're going to have fun today, pet!”

Hermione groaned and shoved a hand at where she was sure Bellatrix was leaning over her. She was correct, and a hand roughly hit Bellatrix in the face, causing her to fall over.

“Why do you insist on waking me up each morning?”

“I get bored. Besides, today is the day that we get walkies!”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Black?” Growled Hermione.

“We get to leave our comfy little cell and play with the others.”

Any response was interrupted by a loud announcement that filled the whole of Azkaban. 

“Rise and shine, dunderheads. Cell doors will open in five minutes. Time for showers and then social time.”

“See?” Bellatrix hissed.

Shower time was as awkward as Hermione expected. She was watched, and not in a good way. She was very clearly fresh meat, and several people wanted to take a bite. It was also freezing cold, which most certainly did not endear Hermione to it.

Hermione stuck close to Bellatrix, once they wandered into the communal social area. It was really just large room with a few tables and sofas. There were no books, or games. They'd probably been removed after a violent incident. 

Bellatrix proudly whispered in Hermione's ear about her first social time, when some guy had tried to hit her. He'd been sent to the mediwitch with one ear missing. It was probably why no one bothered her while she hid in Bellatrix's shadow.

But Bellatrix couldn't be there forever. She didn't mind Hermione following her, but she did have her own shit to deal with. One of Bellatrix's more friendly fellow prisoners tilted her head at her. Maya was one of the few people she trusted to watch her back in the showers. The girl got teased for having a crush on her, but it was better than getting beaten up. Bellatrix had started a rumour that Maya looked just like her little sister, and that she couldn't stand the idea of her being hurt. There was an understanding within the prisoners, to take comfort where you could. Fuck buddies were common enough to see in communal time, as well as people curled up on sofas together, sharing intimacy in a place where it was hard to find. No one begrudged Bellatrix Maya's protection because they understood it.

“You'll have to stay here, Granger. I've got someone to talk to.”

With that, Bellatrix was off. She curled up on a sofa with Maya, while Maya whispered in her ear.

“I noticed a mark on the back of your neck. I think it's your soul mark.”

Bellatrix's breath stopped. She wanted to demand that Maya look, but if it were true then there was only one person it could be. There was only one person new in her life, and if the warden found out he would definitely take Hermione away from her.

“I'm going to plait your hair, Bella.” Whispered Maya. “Get a better look.”

Maya was a smart girl, Bellatrix liked that about her. She was only serving a three year sentence, it was likely that she'd leave Azkaban and be able to start up a whole new life. Bellatrix hoped she did.

They sat in silence as Maya worked, scraping her fingers through Bellatrix's hair to separate it since they didn't have a brush.

“It's black.” Maya snorted. “Appropriate.”

Bellatrix bit back a giggle. The wardens didn't like it when she laughed, it unnerved them, and she really didn't need to be separated from Maya right now.

“A sword, wrapped in a crown. I've seen it on someone else here, you know.”

Bellatrix did know. Her eyes hadn't left Granger since they'd sat down. The woman was currently sitting in an armchair while a large man by the name of Charles stood over her. They had a disagreement, obviously, and then Granger stood, shoved a knee into his groin. Charles collapsed and Granger was on him, punching him a few times in the nose before grabbing his head, her thumbs digging into his eye sockets. She's pulled off by three guards, still kicking and screaming.

Bellatrix let out a cackle, and Maya chuckles softly behind her.

“She'll do, I think.”

Maya nods and rests her head on Bellatrix's shoulder.

“Have fun with her once she gets out of solitary.”

Blood status meant shit all when you had a life sentence in Azkaban. Her parents would have been furious to find out that her soul mate was a mudblood. Good.

/////

Hermione didn't like solitary. She didn't mind being alone, but she didn't like the cramped quarters or the frequent dementors visits. They hadn't been this frequent back in her shared cell.

Dementors were horrible. Hermione hadn't lived a bad life, there had been happiness. In between feelings of being used and betrayal, but it was there. Well, no so much anymore. She struggled to remember the happiness. It was mostly bitterness now.

Two weeks of solitude and then she was dragged back to her cell and dropped on her bed. Bellatrix didn't even wait for the guard to leave before she crawled onto Hermione's cot.

Hermione felt another body on top of hers, heavy, but not too heavy. A sharp finger poked her cheek and she grumbled. Breath brushed against her nose and she sighed. It wasn't until fingers peeled back her eyelids that Hermione slapped Bellatrix's hands away.

“Do you mind?”

Bellatrix giggled softly in her ear. “Not at all. How was your stay in solitary?”

“Five stars, big rooms and great room service.”

Bellatrix giggled again, this time louder. Hermione shifted underneath her. This Bellatrix obviously wasn't all there. Just a touch insane. But she was nothing like the Bellatrix from her world. Had Voldemort twisted her that much?

“You took out one of Charles’ eyes. What did he do?” Bellatrix whispered.

“He recognised me.”

_ Hermione wasn't exactly happy being left alone by Bellatrix, but despite the fact that she was in Azkaban, everyone seemed to be rather well behaved. Then again, losing social time was likely not something anyone wanted to face. _

_ “I know you.” _

_ Hermione startled. She hadn't even noticed him approach, so focused on watching Bellatrix getting her hair plaited. _

_ “I don't know you.” Hermione snapped. _

_ Lie. Charles Gilbert. He stole an artifact from a Muggle museum, and used it to go on a murdering spree. Hermione had been tasked with retrieving it. She had been so close. She had filled out all the stupid paperwork, and gone through all the right Muggle channels, only for Charles to steal it. _

_ “You put me in here, you ministry whore!” _

_ Hermione managed not to jump at the sudden shout. _

_ “I was never a field operative, I had nothing to do with your arrest.” _

_ “You were at the trial, bitch. You testified against me.” _

_ “Yes.” Hermione said cooly. “And your stupid burglary cost me three months of work.” _

_ He rushed her. She reacted. Knee up, fist to face, bring him to the ground and then thumbs digging into his eyes. _

“Where did you learn all that, pet?”

“I was an Unspeakable. We have to pass Aurora training just to do research, including the hand to hand stuff.” Hermione sighed. “I was half way through my field work training. It's … intense.”

“Good. I'd hate to have to fight off the whole prison for you.”

Hermione froze as Bellatrix's tongue pressed against her neck. She was still for several minutes while Bellatrix lapped at her pulse point.

“Ask, pet.”

Hermione barely heard Bellatrix speak.

“Why would you fight them for me?”

Bellatrix's hand snaped out and curled around her wrist. The wrist that bore her soul mark. She held the wrist tightly, almost bruising it.

“You're mine.”

Bellatrix sunk her teeth into Hermione's neck. Hermione jerks but doesn't let out a sound. Bellatrix started licking at the wound. They stay like that for the rest of the night. Bellatrix licking and nipping at Hermione's throat, and Hermione letting her. Slowly, Hermione drifts off. Neither witch wants to admit it's the best sleep they've both had since arriving in Azkaban, but each night afterwards always finds them sharing a bed.

/////

It goes on for months. They whisper to each other, curled up on the same cot together. They tell each other everything. No judgement, just truths. They take what little comfort they can.

“Why did you kill him, pet?”

“He cheated. Got her pregnant, and then told me we could raise the child together.”

Hermione isn't even angry when Bellatrix laughs about it.

“Idiot boy. He deserved it.”

“Yes.”

It turns physical only when they've said everything they can. Stroking, squeezing and gasping. They're always quiet, not wanting the warden to know. He might separate them, and that just wasn't something they were willing to risk.

The dementors steal it all away as soon as they can, so they make more warm memories to tide them over. 

They have a visitor one day. Bellatrix almost expects it to be Narcissa, but surely it hasn't been a year yet? No, it's Hermione who recognises the man at their cell door. Bellatrix has Hermione in her arms. It's not a protective embrace, but a possessive one. Fingers hold too tightly, for too long. To Hermione it's the same thing though. She doesn't feel much anymore, she needs the extra pressure to know that Bellatrix is there.

“Hermione.”

Hermione looks up at the man blankly for a few seconds. She had forgotten his face.

“Oh. Harry.” Her voice is rough. She hasn't spoken in anything but a whisper in a long time.

Bellatrix's dark eyes dig into him. This … boy is the infamous Harry Potter. Hermione had told her much about him. Quidditch prodigy, one of the youngest auroras ever. Bellatrix flexed her fingers, digging them deeper into Hermione's arm and side. Hermione gasped at the pain. She didn't mind the pain, not really. It grounded her. It made Harry uncomfortable though, and the thought almost made Hermione laugh. Bellatrix did laugh.

Harry turned to the warden. “Can I talk to just Hermione? Not …  _ her _ ? I'm here on  official Aurora business to get a statement, after all.”

The warden licked his lips slowly.

“I wouldn't recommend it. Ninety-three is the possessive sort. She's not pretty when you take away her toys. Might not get one-oh-nine out in one piece.”

Before Harry could respond, Hermione spoke up.

“I don't want to talk to you anyway.”

The warden shrugged. “You heard the lady. She doesn't have to have visitors. Prisoner rights and all that.”

“Wait!” Harry grabs the bars to their cell.

Hermione can feel Bellatrix growl behind her. She doesn't like it when people enter their cell, or touch the bars.

“I need to know that you feel sorry for what you did. I need to know you're still the girl I grew up with.”

“Why?” Hermione hissed. “Because you still fight for me? You think I'm too stupid to realise that it was you that stopped them from giving me the kiss. I'm a muggleborn, who killed a pureblood, I know what they wanted from my trial. I know that Molly wanted to see me soulless.”

Then Hermione laughed. Bellatrix started to cackle, and that started the whole wing up. Laughter, shouts and screams echoed down the hallway. The warden pulled Harry away from the cell door and started him towards the exit.

“I don't regret a thing, Harry Potter! He deserved it!”

It was the last thing Hermione would say to him.

/////

Both Hermione and Bellatrix knew it was coming. There were only a few reasons that someone like Harry would come and visit when he never had before. Someone had appealed her case, and not for the better. They wanted a different sentence.

Bellatrix held Hermione closer to her. Never letting go, and always leaving terrified bruises or cuts. Hermione didn't mind. She felt alive for the first time in her life. Truly alive, and truly free. This wasn't what she had expected when she tried to find Bellatrix back in her own world, but she didn't regret it.

One morning Bellatrix woke up and Hermione was gone. She knew what it meant. They'd given Hermione the kiss.

Bellatrix screamed for three days straight. By the end her voice wasn't even working anymore.

/////

Narcissa arrived to her yearly visit not knowing that anything was wrong. She soon realised that something was. Bellatrix was slow, paler than normal and she spoke in nothing but hushed whispers. She whispered to herself constantly, and almost didn't notice Narcissa at the bars to her cell.

“Oh, Bella. What happened?”

Bellatrix stared at Narcissa blankly for a long moment before suddenly moving. She scrambled to the cell bars and reached through, cupping Narcissa's cheek.

“I found her, Cissy.” She whispered harshly. “My soul mate. I found her and they took her away. Gave her the kiss.”

Bellatrix let out a long keening moan, and it was everything Narcissa could do not to sob at her sister's pain.

“I need you to do something for me.” Bellatrix whispered, even quieter than before. “I need a mandrake leaf. Just one.”

Narcissa didn't say anything about the request, she didn't show any emotion on her face.

“I miss you, Bella. Draco sends his love, as always. He's expecting his first born soon. I'll bring pictures when I can.”

With a kiss to Bellatrix's forehead, through the cell bars, Narcissa was gone.

/////

Getting the mandrake leaf had been the easy part. Narcissa had never let her down. Seeing photos of Draco all grown up with Scorpius had given her hope. She could do this, and not even the bloody dementors would stop her.

Keeping the mandrake leaf under her tongue for a month wasn't too difficult. There was a learning curve when it came to eating and drinking, but at least no one talked to her anymore. Maya had left three weeks ago, her sentence over.

The hard part was performing the spell. With no wand. In the dead of night. Unable to concentrate due to the screaming. She did it though. Her bones breaking, and skin ripping hurt enough to make her scream, but she'd felt worse.

After it was all over, she stood in the middle of her cell as a jackdaw. It would do.

Bellatrix hopped around a few times before fluttering her new wings. Flying would be interesting, but no time like the present to learn. She hopped up to the small window, high in her room. Even as a bird she struggled to squeeze between the bars, but she managed. 

Where to go? She couldn't go to Black or Malfoy Manor. They'd expect that. She did need some supplies though, she couldn't go straight to her target. Lestrange Estate would have to do. No one would expect her to go back there, especially if Rabastan now lived there. They didn't know that Rabastan had hated his brother just as much as Bellatrix had.

/////

The Lestrange Estate had been empty. It had made it easy for Bellatrix to retrieve the wand she stashed there after cursing her husband all those years ago. She had eaten, and bathed and slept until she felt ready. 

For a month she hid, and not once did she see Rabastan. Bellatrix wondered if he still lived. Perhaps he knew she was there and left. It was the sort of thing he would do.

Eventually though, she had to move on with her plan. She flew to Diagon Alley as a jackdaw, and perched across from her target's shop. She was noticed a few times, but while he may of been suspicious, he most definitely did not think the jackdaw was Bellatrix. She held no ill will towards him, after all. It was almost a shame that he was so well respected in the wizarding world.

She spent days watching him. At one point she even built a nest just so he'd stop staring at her so carefully. Then her chance came.

It was the middle of the week, and the middle of the school term. There weren't too many people milling around Diagon Alley. Mr Ollivander dropped his newspaper, and when he stood back up he came face to face with Bellatrix.

She grinned down at him and gently placed her wand under his chin.

“Mr Ollivander. It's good to see you again. Back inside now. We have business to discuss.”

Ollivander nodded and quickly turned, unlocking the door to his shop. Bellatrix followed him inside, her wand still pressed against Ollivander's back.

“Put your wand on the counter, Mr Ollivander. I just want a talk. Anywhere out back where we can sit and have tea?”

Ollivander nodded, retrieving and gently placing his wand on the counter. He led her out back where there was a tiny kitchen with a small bench for sitting at. There were only two seats.

Bellatrix took a seat, and gestured for Ollivander to take the other. He did.

“I don't intend to hurt you, Mr Ollivander. You are, unfortunately for yourself in this situation, rather important to the wizarding community. Therefore I'm afraid I am going to have to take you hostage in order to get what I want.”

“Ms Lestrange…”

“Black, please. I know the paperwork likely wasn't filed, what with me being in Azkaban, but I will be addressed as Bellatrix Black.”

Ollivander nodded. “Of course, my dear. You'll have to excuse me, I didn't think of it.”

“You're excused.” Bellatrix said with a raised eyebrow.

“Right. Ms Black, why am I being held hostage?”

Bellatrix rolled her eyes. “I told you, you're important. Because I have you, they'll give me what I want.”

“Ms Black, they'll kill you.”

“Eventually, yes, but I will get what I want first.”

“What is it you want, Ms Black.”

“Simple. I want the world to know that Harry Potter killed my soulmate.”

Ollivander's eyebrows shot up. “I'm sorry to hear that, my dear. I assume we will be staying in this shop a fair bit?”

Bellatrix nodded and stood. With a few flicks of her wand she moved several large boxes of wands out of the way, clearing out what had been a rather cramped dining room. The siding table became a comfortable enough bed and Bellatrix gestured towards it.

“That's yours.”

“And where will you sleep?”

Bellatrix cackled. “I don't sleep anymore.”

/////

There were a lot of knocks on the shop door the next morning. Some more insistent than others. Bellatrix spent the early hours of the morning setting up charms and hexes. She covered every exit and entrance and made sure to inform Ollivander of each one. Just to make sure that he knew not to try and escape.

Ollivander had been exceedingly cooperative, and had even made them scrambled eggs for breakfast. It was one of the reasons that Bellatrix had picked him. Ollivander was a mysterious man, but he had known her father for a long time. She had been told the story of Ollivander's lost soulmate. A girl killed shortly after they met, from a stray spell in a duel. The man responsible had never been caught. Not by Auroras anyway. Cygnus Black knew how to look after his friends, and after the Auroras failed, he didn't.

The knocks on the door didn't become insistent until late in the afternoon. Bellatrix assumed that someone had reported that Ollivander's wasn't open, the first patrol hadn't gotten any response at the store, and a search had commenced. Eventually someone would have come back to the store and realised that there were two people inside. Homenum Revelio is a fantastic spell, as long as people remembered to use it.

“Mr Ollivander? We're with the Auroras! Can you open the door please?”

“Ms Black, what is your plan now?”

Bellatrix frowned slightly. “I'm sorry, Mr Ollivander.”

She raised her wand. “Imperious!”

/////

Auroras Betty Francis and Gary Bernstein stood outside of Ollivander's. There had been concerns since the shop did not open that morning. No one had been able to find Ollivander. Now they knew that there were two people inside the store.

A shadow could be seen, slowly making its way to the door. The lock clicked and the door opened. A figure stood in the doorway.

“Mr Ollivander!” Gary said brightly.

Betty narrowed her eyes. Ollivander didn't look normal. His eyes were glassy and his wand was pressed tightly against his wrist. Betty pulled Gary back slightly and raised her wand.

“Ohhhh, I wouldn't do that if I were you, Itty Bitty aurora.” Ollivander said in a mocking tone. “I can slice open his wrist much faster than you can cast me from his mind, and that would kill him.”

A cruel smile pulled across his lips, nothing like the happy smiles he gave so many first time wand owners. He raised his arm up, wand still pressing into his wrist. He looked down at his arm fondly. There were black tendrils swirling underneath his skin.

“See, what I've done is a very rare type of blood magic. The creature in him is contained, for now. The moment I cut his skin open though…” Ollivander cackled. “Well, that's when things become fun. Ollivander no longer has an arm, you no longer have faces and no one can control the little blighter. Not even me.”

Betty grit her teeth. “May I have the pleasure of your name?”

Ollivander chuckled. “You're a polite one. Yes. You can call me Bellatrix. Bellatrix Black.”

Gary's eyes widened. “You're in Azkaban!”

“Sure about that, newbie?” Ollivander said with an eye roll. “Anyway, I intend to stay here for a little while. Good old Ollivander is my very … accommodating guest and will remain so. I know you're going to have this place surrounded soon enough, but this shop is locked up tighter than Azkaban. I should know. Ta ta for now!”

Ollivander stepped back and the door slammed shut in the aurora's faces. Gary gaped at the door. 

“We need to get in there!”

Betty snorted. “We need back up. Black is insane, we cannot take her alone.”

/////

When Ollivander came to he was sitting at the kitchen bench.

“Did it go as intended?”

Bellatrix nodded. “Yes, thank you.”

Ollivander rubbed his wrist, wondering why it ached. He saw darkness move beneath his skin.

“Ms Black? What have you done to my arm?”

“What?” Bellatrix said distractedly as she applied just a few more security charms to the room. “Oh. Right. It's just a temporary tattoo. It'll fade in about a week. It's meant to be a squid, I just did it badly. Say, do you have an owl? I really need to send my sister a message.”

/////

Rita Skeeter stared down at the letter in her hands. Hand delivered by Narcissa Malfoy herself it was a goldmine of gossip and truths unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Laid out in front of her was the life story of Hermione Granger. Murderer. Any article she wrote from this would upset a heap of people. Everyone wanted to feel bad for Ronald Weasley. The pureblood with a crazy muggleborn fiancé, it practically wrote itself. It was a golden opportunity to destroy that idea. She'd be hated and loved in equal amounts. Just the sort of publicity she needed with a new book coming out.

A fantastic opportunity, but the postscript did terrify her.

_ P.S I may currently be holding someone hostage, but don't think for a second that I can't still get to you and make you very sorry if I don't like what I read. This is still my soulmate we're talking about, Bug. _

////

They had been camped outside of the shop for two days, and the only thing that Black had asked for was a copy of the Daily Prophet each morning. Ollivander would walk up to the door, open it and take the newspaper while insisting he was being treated just fine.

They had tried to grab him once, only to find that their were wards to stop them. Very painful wards. Painful wards seemed to be the way Bellatrix did things. So far no one had been able to gain access to the shop. They even had a few of Gringotts’ best curse breakers have a look. Still nothing.

Some of the older auroras remembered why it had been so hard to arrest Black the first time.

Today, when Ollivander took the morning newspaper he glanced down to check it like always. His eyes caught on the headline.

_ Golden Boy Ronald Weasley a Cheat? _

“Well,” Ollivander said quietly to the aurora handing over the paper. “I've a message to pass on from Ms Black. She'll negotiate with Harry Potter only. Two hours.”

He shut the door.

Bellatrix was ecstatic with the article Rita had written. She didn't mind it having taken longer than expected when she found that it involved extra interviews with Hermione and Ron's school buddies that made Ron seem like an idiot, and a particularly damaging quote from Draco as one of Hermione's work colleagues.

_ “I can't say I ever understood their relationship. As far as I could tell, he always seemed to take her for granted. There was even a rumour going around that Weasley was given a warning after showing Granger confidential files in order to get her help on an active case.” _

Merlin she loved that boy, always so fiesty. 

/////

Two hours went quickly, and Ollivander found himself at the door, gesturing for Harry to enter. Harry paused at the door.

“The wards have been taken down, Mr Potter.”

Harry nodded and entered the shop. Ollivander watched him until he was behind the counter before speaking.

“Good luck, Mr Potter. I think you'll need it.”

With that he stepped outside of the shop and shut the door behind him. It locked, and no matter how hard Harry jiggle the door knob, it wouldn't open.

“Come now Potter! It's time we had a talk.”

With no other choice, Harry headed deeper into the shop. His wand was ripped from his hand the moment he entered the back room.

Bellatrix sat at a small dining table. There was one free chair opposite her.

“Sit, Potter.”

He sat. “You wanted to negotiate, Black?”

Bellatrix snorted. “There's nothing to negotiate. Ollivander is free. In fact, the only hostage I have now is you.”

“I think you'll find I'm a poor hostage to have.” Harry spat.

“I imagine you're poor at a lot of things, Potter. Keeping your friends alive is somewhere near the top of the list.”

Bellatrix twirled Harry's wand in her fingers, watching it absentmindedly.

“What do you want?” 

Bellatrix met Harry's eyes. “I wanted to look you in the eye. I wanted to see the  _ boy _ responsible for my soulmate's death.”

“She bought it on herself!”

“She wasn't the one that used a faulty, inadmissible statement to give herself the kiss! No lawyer, no preparation time and asking while her mind was still messed up by dementors? You wanted her to be given the kiss, don't deny it!”

“She deserved it! I have no friends anymore! Everyone treats me differently. I thought if I saved her from the kiss it would be fine, but it wasn't. Making sure she got the kiss was the only way to make sure my life went back to normal. Everyone judges me now, I just want to leave it behind me.”

Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, but Bellatrix had no sympathy for him.

“You made her life horrible. You used her for her intelligence and then threw her away once you were done. You used her as homework help and that's it. I doubt you'd have even become an Aurora without her help. You encouraged her to say in an unhappy and unhealthy relationship because it made your life easier. You're a weak, and pathetic man.”

Bellatrix raised her wand to her temple and drew out a memory. She quickly bottled it in a vial pulled from a pocket. She held the vial up.

“When they find this on me, it's going to become evidence. Your life will never go back to normal. Just be glad I'm not planning to track down your soulmate for revenge.”

“What happens now?” Harry asked tiredly.

“Now I beat you bloody and toss you out the front door.” Bellatrix cracked the knuckles on one of her hands. “History will remember Hermione for her crimes, but it will also remember you and Weasley as the ones that pushed her there.”

Bellatrix grinned. She couldn't help it. She was so going to enjoy hurting Potter.

/////

Hermione jerked awake when she heard knocking. She looked around and recognised the inside of the Hogwarts Express.

“Yes?”

The door to her compartment opened and a young Neville stuck his head in.

“Have you seen a toad? Only I've lost one.”

“Um, no sorry.” Hermione rubbed her eyes. “I'll keep a look out though.”

Neville grinned. “Thanks!”

The door slam shut and Hermione quickly looked at the window. Staring back at her was an eleven year old Hermione. She didn't even have her gryffindor colours yet. 

“Shit.”


	2. Back to Hogwarts Part One

Hermione rubbed her head, and let the gentle rocking of the train relax her. She was surprised she was here. She had been convinced that her death in the previous world would be the end of her. She wouldn't have even minded. At least in that world she had known Bellatrix. 

Obviously she had misjudged the way she travelled between worlds. The time turner had done something to her, especially since she had travelled to another world while not wearing it anymore. They didn't let you keep time turners in Azkaban.

The time turner….

Hermione reached up to her throat. She was definitely wearing something around her neck. She pulled on the chain gently. She had it back. It was the same one too, it  _ felt _ the same. Feelings were a stupid metric to make the judgement on, but Hermione had learnt as an Unspeakable that feelings were just as acceptable in a report as actual facts. In hindsight, she had no idea how she had lasted as an Unspeakable for as long as she had. She'd dealt with things that weren’t meant to be understood, and things that humans just couldn't comprehend. So  _ feelings _ became an acceptable ways of categorising phenomenon. It drove her batty from frustration.

Hermione held the time turner in front of her. She didn't know much about this world yet. This Hermione's past seemed to be pretty close to her original past. Muggleborn. Daughter to Jean and David Granger. Both dentists. Better with books than people.

It would make sense to spin the time turner, see if she could get back to her own world. It would make sense.

Would it really matter if she did it now or later on though? Maybe after the first holidays. She could see her parents again. Merlin, it had been so long, and they were in England, not Australia.

Hermione tucked the time turner back under her shirt. She would wait a little bit. Just a little bit.

If she waited of course, that raised several other questions. Should she help Neville find Trevor? That's how she met Harry and Ron in the first place. Oh, that thought made her feel sick. She could still picture the anger on Harry's face, and Ron's glassy eyes staring up at her. No, perhaps it would be best to stay away from them for a little bit.

It's not like they ever found the toad on the train anyway.

/////

Neville found Trevor just as they were about to get on the boats. Boats that Hagrid had summoned with his wand. That was different. 

Hagrid chatted happily as he led the first years up to the castle. Draco mocked him quietly, while Harry stared happily up at the half giant.

Hermione stuck to the back of the crowd, and hoped that no one would notice she wasn't as impressed with Hogwarts as all the other first year students. It was just as beautiful as she remembered, but after her time in Azkaban, all Hermione could manage to feel was utterly tired. Tonight she couldn't fake her amazement.

They followed Hagrid up the stairs and were met by Professor McGonagall. She introduced herself and quickly entered the Great hall again

“You must be a Weasley.” Snapped Draco.

Hermione had been ignoring most of her fellow first years, but Draco's shout had caught her attention. Despite her best efforts, Hermione didn't manage to completely suppress her giggle. Draco sounded so much like his aunt.

_ A Weasley? Well that just doesn't count! No one cares about Weasleys. _

She wondered if this Draco knew Bellatrix. 

Professor McGonagall gave her speech about the sorting hat and Hermione found it hard to concentrate on her. She was finding it hard to concentrate in general actually. Her mind wandered so easily. Azkaban had taught her to not focus on her surroundings.

They all moved forward as the large doors opened and most of the first years stared up in amazement at the Great hall ceiling. Hermione just smiled to herself. It almost felt like being home.

She glanced around the hall, taking in the throngs of students around the four banquet tables. She could see Fred and George nudging each other and looking in Ron's direction. Cedric Diggory, though a young version of him sat alive and well surrounded by friends. What a strange feeling. It was like seeing someone risen from the dead.

Hermione turned her attention to the teacher's table and froze. She recognised all of them, but where she had expected to see Professor Quirrell, was Bellatrix. Hermione stood transfixed much longer than she'd like to admit. 

Bellatrix was beautiful. Not that she wasn't always a wild beauty, but life had never been kind to her. This life obviously wasn't a cake walk either. Bellatrix scowled and generally looked annoyed, but it wasn't the sunken eyes and translucent skin that Hermione remembered. She'd had an easier life. Good. She deserved it.

Hermione peered down at her wrist, edging the cuff of her jumper up to reveal her soul mark. It was just starting to darken as it permanently etched itself into her skin. This was going to be hard. She was an adult in the body of an eleven year old, and her soulmate was her teacher.

Merlin, she was going to have to go through puberty again!

“Hermione Granger!”

Hermione's head shot up and took in McGonagall's expectant look. She made her way up to the sorting hat. The hat was placed on her head and Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes. She'd almost had a hatstall the first time and this time wasn't likely to be any different.

What was different was the hat's monologue. It no longer considered her for just Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, but all houses. Bravery, smarts, cunning and loyalty all proven by war.

The hat debated in her ear. It praised her different virtues and Hermione would have been pleased if her mind hadn't started wandering again. This time to Bellatrix. Did the other woman even know she had her soul mark now? Was it on the back of her neck like the other Bellatrix? All she wanted from this life was to be close to her soul mate.

“Really? Well that makes it easy then.” The hat hissed in her ear. “Slytherin!”

Hermione’s eyes widened and the hat was pulled off her head. Her new house clapped politely like they had for every other new Slytherin, though a few looked at her with suspicious gazes. She had hatstall, and Slytherin was notorious for having students barely touch the hat before being sorted. 

It wasn't like she had the monumental task of living as a muggleborn in Slytherin, and didn't need the extra attention or anything. Damn hat. 

Hermione wondered how long she could keep it a secret. She wouldn't be able to play a pureblood, but it wouldn't be too hard to pretend to be a half blood, surely? Voldemort, and Snape were both proof of that. A muggleborn born father, hence why no one knew her last name and a half-blood mother? Yes, that would work. Her previous life had left her with a cruel streak. Years of being pushed aside an ignored had created a Hermione that didn't mind the odd prank. At least she'd fit in better with Slytherin now.

She sat down with her fellow Slytherins and a few gave her polite nods. Once the sorting was done, and dinner served, it didn't take long for introductions to be forced out of all the first years and questions of their heritage to come up. Hermione stuck to her story, and while her father's supposed status caused a few sneers, nothing was outwardly aimed at her.

Now she just needed to get through seven more years of schooling that was sure to bore her. Perhaps she'd try to read every book in the library.

/////

Bellatrix stared blankly into the great hall. The Gryffindors were telling stories, the Hufflepuffs were catching up, the Ravenclaw we're sharing what they'd learnt over break, the Slytherins were teasing each other and Bellatrix was trying to ignore Dumbledore chattering away beside her. At least Severus looked equally as put out. Sometimes Bellatrix wondered why she remained as a teacher. It was a far cry from her days as a bounty hunter. It was a lot less dangerous unless you considered stupidity to be contagious. With each new wave of student she taught, she sometimes wondered if it was.

The first years flooded into the room, all huddled behind McGonagall. Bellatrix's neck started to itch uncomfortably. She rubbed at it and felt the slightest raised edges in her skin. Oh.

Oh!

All she could hope was that it wasn't what she suspected. That would be mortifying and honestly far too much trouble.

Bellatrix somehow got through dinner without another word to anyone. Then again, it wasn't unusual for her to snub her fellow professors. They'd all gotten used to it eventually.

As soon as it was feasible, Bellatrix disappeared from the great hall. She made her way through the castle and straight to Severus’ room. She spent the next half hour pacing while she waited for Severus to head back from dinner. He was probably taking so long because he was sulking around, pouting about Lily and James Potter's kid starting this year.

“Finally!” Bellatrix snapped as soon as the door opened.

Severus paused in the doorway, and Bellatrix could see him seriously consider just shutting the door and leaving. She flicked a hand out, causing the door to smash open and jerk Severus fully inside the room.

“Don't even think about it!” Bellatrix growled. “Get in here and have a look at something for me.”

Severus sneered at her. “Perhaps you should go and see Poppy then?”

“Shut up and get over here.” Bellatrix said as she sat at his desk.

Severus rolled his eyes but did as Bellatrix asked. They were friends, even if it was just so they had someone to complain to about all the other teachers. He stood behind her.

“What is it?”

Bellatrix wrapped her hands in her hair and twisted it together. Gently she pulled her hair up and out of the way of her neck.

“Oh.”

Bellatrix groaned. “It's my soul mark, isn't it? What does it look like?”

“It's a sword, with a crown resting on the hilt.” Severus said softly. “Bella, when did this happen?”

Bellatrix sighed and let her hair fall back around her shoulders. She slumped forward onto Severus’ desk.

“Today.”

Severus didn't say anything and Bellatrix knew he was waiting for her to elaborate. 

“When the first years came in.”

“Oh. Bella. I…”

“I don't want your pity, Sev!”

Severus sighed. “Bella, you need to tell Dumbledore and we need to figure out who the student is.”

Bellatrix groaned. “I know. But not tonight. Tonight I'll get drunk and take it out on the second years tomorrow.”

Severus chuckled. “Go to bed, Bella. I'll let you tell Dumbledore when you're ready.”

“Ugh. Fine, Dad! You ruin all my fun.”

/////

Hermione followed the Slytherin prefect, Flint. He was a tall boy, but had a face like a particularly ugly troll. Hermione vaguely remembered him. Something about quidditch. They made their way down into the dungeons, past the potions classroom and eventually stopped outside of a blank wall. Hermione took in the surrounding statues and wall mounted candles. She could imagine a few first years got lost trying to find their common room each year. She wouldn't be one of them.

“Pure-blood.”

Hermione rolled her eyes. What a terribly unsecure password. The wall turned into a doorway, and Hermione saw the Slytherin common room for the first time. She was disappointed. The room itself was fine, though a tad overwhelming with the carved stone everywhere. There were plenty of chairs, tables and couches for everyone to be comfortable. The lights however let out a green glow that was atmospheric, but terrible to see by. She'd never be able to do homework there. It was rather frustrating.

Draco instantly had all the attention drawn to him. Even some of the seventh years introduced themselves. Probably wanting to be able to call on their shared year together later, once everyone was in the real world and a connection to Draco Malfoy could mean good business.

Hermione secluded herself in an armchair off to the side and twirled her wand in her fingers. What was she to do? It was unlikely that she'd learn much this year. She could probably sleep through most of her classes and still get good marks. No, that wouldn't do. She still wanted to be top in the year level. Still, she had an advantage. It wouldn't do to become complacent. Especially since Bellatrix was likely to be an … interesting teacher.

Soon enough it drew late and Snape stormed in, welcoming everyone to Slytherin and telling them to go to bed in the same breath.

Hermione happily complied, closing the curtains around her bed and casting a silencing charm. She'd had nightmares from the war back in her own world, and she couldn't imagine they were any better now after her time in Azkaban. At least in Azkaban she'd had Bellatrix to hold her. Here she had no one.

Hermione tucked her wand under her pillow, within easy each and prepared for what was likely to be a poor night of sleep.

/////

The next day was one of firsts. Pansy, Millicent, Daphne, and Tracey all introduced themselves in their dorm room, but all Hermione could manage was a tired smile.

“Nightmares?” Asked Daphne.

Hermione looked away and nodded. “I'm good at silencing charms though, so don't worry.”

It was Millicent who put a hand on Hermione's shoulder and squeezed gently. “Happens to the best of us.”

None of her roommates spoke of it again, except the few times they asked her for a charm while they were still learning it themselves.

No one questioned her knowledge, or called her a know-it-all for knowing a complicated spell before classes had even started. They just accepted that she knew, and that the reasons why were her own. She'd find out later that Pansy had been given her first wand at five, and that she was a better dueler than Hermione had ever know. Daphne knew a shockingly large amount about make up spells. Hermione guessed their were some benefits to being a pureblood.

The next first was watching Harry lose points in potions. She sniggered with the rest of the Slytherins and it was oddly therapeutic. For once she hadn't put her hand up to answer Snape's questions. Neither did she in charms, or herbology. She slept through history of magic and had to be woken by a giggling Theodore Nott. She'd been the only one brave enough to do so on their first day. She hadn't meant to, but with her nightmares it seemed inevitable. History of magic  _ was _ interesting, just not the second time around.

“Calm yourself, Nott. It's not like history changes, I can read up on it all later.”

Transfiguration had been interesting. It had always been her favourite, though some of that was down to Professor McGonagall. She was a good teacher, a mentor even. Hermione wondered how much that would extend to a Slytherin.

She entered the classroom straight after lunch with the rest of the Slytherin first years. They were sharing the class with the Gryffindors. Hermione smiled shyly at Neville and while he looked a little shocked, he smiled back. Hermione was the last Slytherin in, and she paused as soon as she reached McGonagall's desk at the front of the class. She had forgotten this particular lesson.

Hermione stared at the cat on the desk, and the cat stared back. It had small black marks around its eyes, and Hermione could easily see them as the glasses they were meant to represent.

Hermione nodded at the cat. “Professor.” She muttered quietly. She sat with the rest of the Slytherins.

“Talking to cats, now are you Granger?” Draco sneered.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “Well, I wanted some intelligent conversation and the only other option was you….”

She let her sentence hang and the other Slytherins snickered at Draco.

Harry and Ron burst in the doors late, drawing attention to themselves. For the first time Hermione couldn't ignore them. They were right there, and she couldn't help but feel sadness, irritation and a deep longing for what had been. It quickly turned to amusement as McGonagall shifted from her animagus form in front of them. Harry and Ron were told off, and the class started properly. 

Much like her previous classes, Hermione didn't raise her hand to answer McGonagall's questions, but her stunt of greeting the professor while in animagus form had obviously attracted McGonagall's attention. More than once she called her out to answer a question, and everytime Hermione had the right answer she was rewarded with a small smile.

Flying had been a disaster as expected. She would likely always be bad at flying. She'd gotten better over the years. At least the broom moved when she said 'up’ this time. Then Neville broke his arm, and Hermione scooped up his rememberall before Draco could.

“Give it here, Granger.” 

Hermione looked between the rememberall and Harry. She slipped the rememberall into her pocket.

“No. Get lost, Potter.”

Harry drew his wand. Hermione just stared him down.

“Don't be stupid, Potter. You don't know enough spells to even try and duel anyone. If you did, your glasses wouldn't be broken.”

Harry and Ron both spluttered at her, while the Slytherins sniggered.

She ignored them for the rest of the class, only remembering that this first flying class was where Harry proved himself to be good on a broom later that night.

Between classes, Hermione made a stop at the hospital wing. Madame Pompfrey gave her a strange look when she asked to see Neville. This was what it mean to be a Slytherin, Hermione realised. No one quite trusted you. Neville hesitated when Hermione handed him his Rememberall.

“I'm still the same person you met on the train when you were looking for Trevor, Neville.” Hermione said softly with a smile.

Neville smiled back. “Yeah, I guess you are. Thanks.”

Hermione nodded. “I've got to get to class, see you later.”

Hermione arrived to Defense Against the Dark Arts just in time. Just in time was obviously late if Bellatrix's scowl was anything to go by. Hermione pursed her lips, trying not laugh at the look she was being given. It was hard to take Bellatrix seriously. Afterall she'd shared a cell, and a life with her. All Hermione could think was that Bellatrix's scowl was cute.

Hermione's DADA education had been spotty at best. Quirrell, Umbridge, and Lockhart had been useless, though all in different ways. Lupin had been decent for learning about dark creatures, and Snape had actually been a knowledgeable teacher, even when he was grumpy and as unpersonable as always. Moody had been downright terrifying, which made sense when you took into consideration that he was a death eater in disguise, but he had also been a bad teacher. There was no flow to his lesson plans and that year they'd missed huge chunks out of the textbook to learn about the unforgivables.

Hermione was looking forward to having a teacher that would likely last more than a year, even if that teacher was her soulmate and that made everything kind of weird.

The Slytherins and Gryffindors shared DADA, and Hermione was sure it'd prove to be an interesting experience. Especially since Bellatrix would be very pro Slytherin, or at least, pro Draco.

Hermione sat in a chair next to Millicent, and ignored the impatient huff Bellatrix made. She noticed Draco sitting up straight, his text book on his desk and his quill and parchment ready. Hermione had almost expected him to be sitting lazily in his chair like in every other class. No, she supposed Bellatrix had already had words with him about how to behave in her class. Despite how much Hermione was sure that Bellatrix loved her nephew - and she was sure after her time in Azkaban,  _ that _ Bellatrix had doted on Draco while she was able - she wasn't likely to play favourites in her class.

“I'm Professor Black and this is Defense Against the Dark Arts.”

Bellatrix waved her hand dismissively and leaned back against her desk.

“This year I'll be teaching you a few spells, showing a you a few of the more common dark magical creatures in our world, giving you a brief history on dark magic use, and teaching you the basics of dueling.”

Excited mutters echoed around the class at the mention on dueling. Bellatrix scowled.

“Let me make one thing clear. I am teaching you the  _ basics _ of dueling. There will be no actual dueling, and if I see a single first year attempting to duel, they will have detention with me everyday for a  _ month _ .” Bellatrix growled out.

Several students shuddered. Hermione hid a smile. It looked like DADA would keep her on her toes.

/////

Christmas came quickly. Between trying to read every book in the library, and editing a huge amount of essays, Hermione often felt like she had no spare time. DADA was the only class that challenged her, though listening to McGonagall and Flitwick lecturing was soothing. McGonagall was warm to her, though perhaps not as encouraging as when Hermione had first been at Hogwarts, back in her own world. Perhaps it was because she was in Slytherin, or maybe it was because she still didn't put her hand up in class, or write essays nearly as long as she used to. It meant she didn't stand out quite as much, though she did have to put effort in to making it look like every spell wasn't as easy as it was. The temptation was there, of course, but this time around Hermione had better use of her time. 

Like writing other people's essays. 

She'd stumbled across a fifth year girl in the bathroom having a break down after failing a charms essay on the same day as her parents owled her about her arranged marriage. 

Hermione couldn't fix the marriage, but Flitwick had given the girl the chance to rewrite her essay, and that was something Hermione could help with. They'd sat in the bathroom until dinner while the girl unloaded her emotional baggage, and Hermione edited her essay. Hermione didn't see the girl for another three days until she was approached in the Slytherin common room. The girl showed her the much improved mark, introduced herself as Vanessa, and gave Hermione five galleons for helping her.

“You're smart for a first year.” Vanessa said with narrowed eyes.

“I read a lot.” Hermione tucked the galleons into her robes. She could use the money, afterall. “Pleasure doing business.”

From then on, Hermione had been bombarded by request to help with homework. She decided quickly that she wouldn't write anyone's essays for them, but she could edit them. She'd never do essays for anyone in her year level either, which had pissed Draco off to no end.

He'd grown to dislike her, that much was clear. Hermione wasn't sure why, but she figured it had to do with her not pandering to his every whim like the other first and even second year girls did. The Malfoy name bought him a lot of leeway, and a lot of attention, even if he wasn't any of the girl's soul mates. Pansy was particularly bad about it, and as Draco's dislike for Hermione grew, Pansy, Crabbe and Goyle followed suit. It was a good thing that the others in their year were mostly independent thinkers, and they didn't follow Draco's moods. 

Though, it was possible that he hated her friendship with Neville. Or possibly because she never failed to take the chance to make fun of him. Really, it was his own fault for making it too easy. Draco was too easily flustered. He could outwit Harry and Ron, but the moment someone could keep up with his sarcasm, he didn't know what to do. It was a little like taking candy from a baby, Draco really had no chance. He didn't know who he was going up against, and Hermione had years of experience outwitting him, and people much smarter than him. One did not become an Unspeakable by being stupid, after all.

Hermione packed her trunk with quick flicks of her wand. Christmas break was upon them, and there was little she needed to take back home, but it was always best to leave everything packed away and locked up. She cast a few charms around her trunk. Locking charm, repulsion charm, and a nasty little hex that would leave anyone who managed to open her trunk with bright pink hair.

Hermione tossed everything else she might need into a leather backpack. She had put an undetectable extension charm on it earlier in the year, when she'd decided to read the entirety of the Hogwarts library. It had become hard to move all of the books she checked out without it.

Millicent opened the door to their dorm room.

“Are you ready, Hermione? Everyone's getting ready to leave.”

“Thank you, Millicent. You're staying, aren't you?”

Millicent nodded unhappily. She obviously wanted to go home, but from what Hermione had gathered her parents travelled a lot, and didn't bother with things like Christmas and Yule. Unfortunately, because they travelled so much, they also hadn't made connections like the Parkinson's had. Pansy would be staying with Draco all Christmas. She'd been talking about nothing else for weeks.

Hermione almost wished she could invite Millicent to hers for the holiday, but it just wasn't going to happen. Not while Hermione was lying about being a half-blood. Maybe she'd send her a present. Millicent had been nothing but kind to her, even though it didn't always come across that way. Even when Pansy's opinion of Hermione soured along with Draco and the other girl made it her goal to turn the rest of their year level against Hermione. Millicent had never really cared what people thought of her and so happily kept talking to Hermione. In return, Millicent was the only one who didn't have to pay to have her essays edited.

Hermione threw her backpack over her shoulder.

“I wouldn't try to get into my trunk, Millie. But if you see someone trying, I suggest watching if you want a bit of a laugh.”

Millicent smiled at her and followed Hermione down to the common room. Millicent's hand gently squeezed Hermione's shoulder, and with that Hermione was gone to the Hogwarts Express. It was a long trip, made even longer by the excitement she felt at seeing her parents again. Still, she sat quietly and read, making sure she was the last one off the train. 

Most families had left by the time she greeted her parents with an enthusiastic hug. She didn't bother to stop the tears the sprung to her eyes and worried her parents.

“I just missed you. So much.”

/////

Severus gave her three months before he started bugging Bellatrix about her soulmate. When he eventually got out of her that she still hadn't figured out who it was, he had threatened to go to Dumbledore. She'd chased him out of his own office with a flurry of curses and hexes.

Which was why they were both seated in front of Dumbledore while Minerva hovered behind them. It reminded Severus of his later years as a student at Hogwarts. He often got into altercations with other students, but it was only ever with Bellatrix that Minerva caught them. She'd caught them this time too, though so had most of the teachers and remaining students. Perhaps running through the Great Hall hadn't been his best idea.

Bellatrix was slumped down in her chair, her robes riding up as she glared at her knees.

Severus scoffed. “You look like you’re sixteen again.”

“What a surprise, you just as fucking annoying as you were back then too.” Snapped Bellatrix.

She sighed heavily and slid further into her chair.

“I feel like I'm sixteen again. It sucks.”

Dumbledore looked between the two of them and glanced up at Minerva.

“Why exactly have two of my staff been dragged up here as if they've earnt themselves a months worth of detention?”

Minerva pursed her lips together and looked down at her two ex students. They'd been a handful then, and they were a handful now.

“They thought it a good idea to run through the Great Hall during dinner cursing each other.”

“To be fair,” Severus piped up. “I wasn't doing any cursing, I was more focused to running and dodging.”

“To be fair,” Bellatrix mocked. “he deserved it.”

“I was only…”

“Threatening to tell our colleagues personal information that does not concern them. Information that I told you in secrecy.”

Severus paused. “When you put it that way, I can see why you tried to curse me.”

Dumbledore glanced between the two of them.

“You have been on edge this term, Bellatrix.”

Bellatrix groaned and sat up in her chair. She looked at the ceiling so she wouldn't have to look at any of the people in the room.

“I got my soul mark. It's a student.”

A hand rested on her shoulder. Minerva. Not many people knew that the women had a soft spot for each other. Then again, not many people knew that Minerva and Druella, Bellatrix's mother, still talked regularly. They had been friends at Hogwarts, despite their different houses, and Minerva had even delivered Bellatrix's, Narcissa's and Andromeda's acceptance letters personally.

Bellatrix turned her head and found sympathetic eyes gazing down at her. Sympathy, not pity. Still, had it been anyone else, there might if been curses. Again.

“A first year?” Dumbledore queried.

Bellatrix nodded.

“And do you know who your soulmate is?”

“No.” Bellatrix said with a sigh.

“No one … takes your fancy?”

Bellatrix crickled her nose and sneered at Dumbledore. 

“Don't be disgusting. They're  _ children _ . The lot of them. Merlin, they're Draco's age.”

Dumbledore smiled like she had passed some sort of test. 

“Well, there's nothing to be done now then. You can give us a description of your mark, and we will all keep an eye out. If we figure out which student it is certain restrictions will have to be enforced, but until then, there's no use worrying.”

/////

Hermione was a little disappointed to come back and find no one with bright pink hair, but that didn't diminish the feeling of happiness of having seen her parents.

The rest of the year sped by. Hermione breezed through most of her classes, still only paying full attention in DADA.

Bellatrix had shown them doxies, imps and gnomes along with a variety of curses, hexes and jinxes. Each spell was taught only after the class had mastered the counter curse, and Hermione thought that Bellatrix enjoyed cursing the students in order for them to learn the counter curse just a little too much. It was mostly harmless though, and who was she to judge. She did manage to skip her turn as test subject with a well timed notice-me-not charm on Bellatrix's class roll.

The course work for DADA wasn't too difficult, and Hermione was well versed with every spell they'd been taught so far. But Bellatrix spoke with passion. It was one of the few classes Hermione bothered to ask questions in, and unlike Snape, Bellatrix didn't sigh and begrudgingly answer. She considered each question carefully and gave exact, and full answers. Unless it was a stupid question, then Bellatrix gave a slightly different answer. What does a body-bind curse do, indeed. It only took a few stupid questions from Gryffindors trying to get a laugh, and Slytherins trying to prove themselves before everyone learnt that Bellatrix did not suffer fools.

There was only one major incident that Hermione was sure solidified Draco's hate for her.

He cornered her on the way back from the library. It was late, but still before curfew. Most students were in their common rooms, chatting with friends. It wasn't exam time yet, so the library was generally empty later at night.

Hermione walked around a corner and found herself face to face with Draco. She held three rather large books to her chest an another five in her bag. It was to be her week's worth of reading, though Hermione was concerned she'd have to up her reading schedule if she wanted to finish the whole library by the time she graduated.

“Granger.” Draco snarled as he moved into her path.

“Malfoy.” Hermione replied calmly. “A bit late to be going to the library, isn't it?”

He drew his wand. Hermione didn't.

“I suggest you put your wand away, Malfoy. Professor Black made it quite clear that she would give detention for first years dueling.”

“What my aunt doesn't know won't hurt her.”

Hermione shrugged her shoulders. “It's not her who should be worried about getting hurt. She knows how to duel, you don't.”

Draco sneered at her and flicked his wand out.

“Stupify!”

Draco didn't notice Hermione's finger twitch as she cast a wandless, non-verbal shield charm. It was one of the first spells Unspeakables were made to master in field training. Being able to defend yourself without a wand, and even potentially gagged was important. The spell bounced back at him, and within seconds, Draco was knocked back and stunned. His wand clattered to the ground.

“What is Salazar's name is going on here?”

Hermione looked up from Draco to find Bellatrix storming towards them.

“Professor Black.” Hermione greeted softly. “Mr Malfoy tried to cast a spell at me, but it seems to have backfired. I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than that.”

Bellatrix glared down at her. “I'm sure.”

Hermione made the effort of obviously shuffling her books to the side so she could flick her wand out of her sleeve. She offered it to Bellatrix.

“You're more than welcome to test my wand. I believe the last spell I used was Wingardium Leviosa. We've been going over it in charms.”

Bellatrix muttered the charm to reveal the last spell Hermione cast and nodded slowly to herself. She handed Hermione her wand back with only a little less suspicion on her face. Hermione supposed it was nice to not be underestimated, even if it would make her life a little easier right now.

“Best get to bed, Miss Granger. It's almost curfew.”

Hermione nodded and glanced down at Draco. “Will he be okay?”

Bellatrix snorted. “He'll be fine.”

Hermione turned and made her way to the Slytherin common room, a small grin curving over her face. It was childish, but as annoying as Draco was being, at least he kept things interesting.

Hermione could only just make out Bellatrix casting a rejuvenating spell, right before she tore into Draco.

“What were you thinking? A stupify! You're lucky I was the one to find you, but you'd better believe you'll be doing that month of detention. And I  _ will _ be writing Cissy!”

/////

Once again, Hermione waited to get off of the train. She was the last one off and greeted her parents just as happily as she had at Christmas.

The holidays started out exactly as Hermione expected. Both of her parents had organised to have three weeks off, and they travelled to all the nearby museums and libraries as had become tradition.  

It was during one of these trips that Hermione vaguely wondered if they'd go overseas next year like they had in her own world. Then again they'd only gone away to help Hermione deal with having been petrified. She'd needed space to deal with that particular trauma, and she had considered Spain was enough space.

Hermione's hand tightened around the book she was holding. Her father gave her an odd look, and she managed to smile back.

She'd need to investigate. There was no Lord Voldemort in this world, though Tom Riddle likely existed. Quirrell hadn't shared a body with him, and Harry had no lightning bolt scar. Did that mean the Chamber of Secrets hadn't been opened anytime recently?

Hermione claimed tiredness once they arrived home. She hid herself in her room with Hogwarts: A History and poured through the section on ghost.

Moaning Myrtle had been mentioned, if only briefly in the book in her world. None of the facts had been right about her though. That book had stated that her death was from an unknown cause, and no perpetrator had been caught. Hermione knew that was a lie. Myrtle had died less than a lifetime ago, Voldemort's earliest victim. Dumbledore had seen it happen, and yet her name was forgotten and she was not given a proper memorial in Hogwarts: A History. Just a footnote to warn against being a loner, as if that had been Myrtle's biggest problem in life.

At least in this world it seemed to have worked out a little better for Myrtle. There was no footnote, and Hermione could only assume that meant the chamber hadn't been opened. At least she wouldn't have to peer around every corner with a mirror this year.

/////

Three weeks went quickly and Hermione found herself bored two days into week four. She didn't have the Hogwarts library to entertain her, and she had yet to get her second year gear from Diagon Alley. Her parents had asked that she stay at home, but had given her permission to wander to the local shops for a browse if she really needed to get out.

It took Hermione all of ten minutes to decide that a quick trip to Diagon Alley wouldn't hurt anyone. She quickly gathered the money she had made by helping with homework and picked out one of the few plain black cloaks she had. Most had the embossed Hogwarts symbol on them, and that just wouldn't do. She could get away with Muggle clothes under a cloak as a supposed half-blood, but wandering around Diagon Alley as if the only robes she owned were her school ones was a sure fire way to be outed as a muggleborn. That just wouldn't do, not yet anyway.

Hermione tucked her wand into the sleeve of her jumper, donned her cloak and headed outside. She stood at the side of the road and and put her wand hand out. It took mere second for the Knightbus to arrive.

Hermione took the Knightbus to the Leaky Cauldron, and quickly passed through the Leaky Cauldron until she disappeared into the crowds flowing through the streets. As with most things in Diagon Alley, Hermione eventually found herself dragged in front of Gringotts.

An idea sparked and she moved inside. The bank was bustling, like always. Hermione quietly waited her turn in line, being oddly glanced at by a few of the adults who were probably wondering why she was alone. Eventually it was her turn, and Hermione waited patiently while the goblin working above her pretended to be too busy to serve her. She'd found out from another Unspeakable that if you had the time to wait for goblins, they'd eventually have to be the ones to speak first. Time was money after all, and goblins did not like wasting money. It had become a hobby for Hermione to make the goblins she dealt with wait even longer if they tried those sort of stupid power plays with her.

The goblins in her last world had come to view her as an equal who didn't need to be messed around with. It had made banking at Gringotts much easier.

Eventually the goblin cleared his throat. Hermione glanced up at him.

“Oh. Right. I'm Hermione Granger.”

She stared up at the goblin expectantly. It was an unnerving staring contest that Hermione eventually won. The goblin sighed.

“I am Flinttaker.”

“Well met, Flinttaker. I'm looking to deposit some money in my vault, and talk to someone about some minor investments.”

Flinttaker nodded and rung the small bell on his desk. 

“Wand please.”

Hermione handed over her wand to be inspected. By the time she was handed it back, another goblin had appeared next to her.

“Griphook. Take Miss Granger to her vault, and once she's done there escort her to Ironscroll.”

Griphook nodded and headed off, not waiting for Hermione.

Hermione took her wand back and nodded to Flinttaker. She followed Griphook down to the carts. The ride was silent. Hermione couldn't help but think of the version of Griphook who betrayed them in the bowels of Gringotts. While this Griphook wasn't the same, he didn't exactly have a pleasant demeanor.

Once the cart stopped she left Griphook outside of her vault. She cast a few charms around the door to her vault. Intruder charms, permanent tracking charms that would follow anyone who entered the vault, and a few nasty hexes which would stop anyone from staying too long in there.

Her trace might trigger, but it would be impossible to track one underage magic user in the whole of Diagon Alley. They probably wouldn't even try.

Her vault consisted of a small pile of coins that her parents had deposited last year. They'd put enough in her account for school fees and supplies, as well as a little extra for hidden expenses. Hermione promptly turned her bag upside down and let the galleons fall onto the small pile.

The upside to being sorted into Slytherin was that most students came from old money, meaning they had plenty to spend. Plenty had been spent on Hermione's editing services. Five galleons had seemed steep to Hermione, but ever since Vanessa's first rather public payment, the price and just been assumed.

Once the undetectably extended backpack was empty, Hermione exited her vault.

“Come on Griphook, I have investments to make.”

////

The investment office was small, and utterly covered in gold plated finery. Hermione supposed it did encourage a certain sort of confidence in investing. There were a few fancy chairs in the outer office, not that Griphook had bothered to tell her to sit. He'd left as soon as he possibly could. Opposite the seat Hermione choose were a large stack of pamphlets. She looked at them for a few long seconds before heading over and digging through them.

There were a few generic ones, explaining some of the more complicated terminology and process of investing. Hermione gave them a quick once over, reassuring herself that she knew all she needed. She'd realised quickly that her homework help wouldn't be enough. She'd leave herself with no spare time, and not nearly enough money to try and woo Bellatrix. Her soulmate was a Black, after all. She deserved the best.

There was a weird loophole in wizarding law that meant while the greater wizarding world considered Hermione a minor until she was seventeen, the goblins already considered her an adult because she had her own vault. Her parents couldn't own a vault since they were muggles, so one had been opened in her name. Therefore she could make her own investments.

Investing in businesses that Hermione knew would do well either in her world, or the previous one seemed like a good idea. She still had six years of schooling after all, and six years was plenty of time to let a small investment grow. Plus, it'd be nice to be able to buy new books a little more frequently. Maybe she could get a subscription to one of the Mastery magazines, like Transfiguration Today.

Hermione paused while looking at a particular pamphlet. Something about it seemed familiar. She flicked through it a few times before the name of the investment company finally tickled an old memory. 

Coldstone Adventures advertised themselves as a getaway for the rich and famous to find rare and valuable artifacts with real archeologists. The artifact find would be credited to whichever witch or wizard paid to be there, but the artifact itself would be sold off with the profits going to the investors.

Hermione frowned. One of Ron's brothers had invested in the previous world. Bill perhaps. Yes, definitely Bill, because he had been lucky enough to not lose all his money to it. Fleur had taken one look at the contract and forced him to sell his shares. It was a good thing too, as six months later the company declared bankruptcy.

“Are you interested in investing in Coldstone Adventures?”

Hermione jumped, started at the voice next to her. She hadn't even noticed the goblin and the witch exit one of the surrounding offices.

“My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you.”

Hermione waved a hand. “It's not a problem, I should have been paying more attention. To answer your question, no. Coldstone is a useless investment. I give them five years before they're bankrupt.”

The goblin quirked an eyebrow, but it was the witch with him who spoke up.

“What makes you say that, my dear?”

The witch was tall with long, platinum blonde hair piled on top of her head. She was dressed well in sleek black robes, and wore several expensive looking rings on her fingers. Hermione was sure the woman had mastered the haughty pureblood look, but right now she was smiling down at Hermione softly.

“Lady Black, I'm sure you have more important business to attend to.”

Lady Black's smile disappeared and she glared down at the goblin. 

“All of my business is important, and right now I want to know what this young lady has to say.”

The goblin nodded and looked away. Hermione found herself beibg watched by two pairs of interested eyes.

“It's a fine idea, and it's got the potential to make money, even if it's a bit infrequent and randomised in payout. It also has a substantial loan from Gringotts, on the condition that any goblin artifacts be offered to the goblin nation first.” Hermione sighed. “It's a good deal, and honestly in my opinion, it should all go to the goblin nation regardless.”

Lady Black raised an eyebrow. “You've yet to point out a problem.”

Hermione flipped the pamphlet over and showed her the photograph who two rather sour faced individuals.

“The whole thing is being headed up by the Carrow twins. There isn't anyone I trust less in this situation. They're elitists, with no regard for anyone who isn't a pureblood witch or wizard, and to top it off, they're both as dumb as rocks. All that means is that when they eventually do find a goblin artifact they'll keep it for themselves, but be stupid enough to store it in their Gringotts vault, making sure they are caught red handed. Gringotts calls for immediate payment of their loan, the Carrows declare bankruptcy, and all the other investors are left out of pocket.”

Lady Black gazed at her thoughtfully.

“You raise a few good points. I take it you know the Carrows, then?”

“Only in passing.” Hermione answered quickly. “I doubt they'd remember me. I was much younger at the time. Their reputation precedes them however.”

“Well, Miss…” Lady Black let her sentence hang questioningly.

“Granger, Hermione Granger.”

“Miss Granger. I must say, you certainly seen to have a grasp on the Carrow twins. Terrible people, better than their parents though.”

The goblin looked startled.

“You really think that, Lady Black? That they'll go against the terms of their loan?”

She raised an eyebrow. 

“Why do you think I refused to invest?”

Then Lady Black swept from the room leaving one concerned goblin, and one slightly put out Hermione.

It wasn't the worst first impression one could make with their future mother in law, but it wasn't exactly stunning either.

/////

Bellatrix was three glasses of elvish wine into the annual Black ladies night and as far as she was concerned, it wasn't nearly enough.

Once a year all the living Back women got together, no matter what, and usually got raging drunk. It was a long time family tradition from well before Bellatrix was even born. Every Black woman, no exception. Andromeda had been quite confused the first time Druella had sent Bellatrix to pick her up after Andromeda's 'disowning’.

“Besides,” Druella had said with a wave of her hand. “I never filed the paperwork your father gave me. You're still technically a Black.”

Andromeda and Nymphadora came to most family gatherings, Ted only being allowed once Cygnus had died. His portrait still complained about it regularly.

At this ladies night were all three Black sisters, their mother Druella, Nymphadora, and Great Aunt Cassiopeia, who despite pushing one hundred and fifty, still drunk the rest of them under the table. Thankfully Walburga was long dead and no one but Regulus had to deal with her anymore. Even then it was just in portrait form. They sat in one of the more private sitting rooms in Black Hall, Cassiopeia’s house. The fire crackled and was a selection of snack food, and an even bigger selection of alcohol.

They had considered opening the night up to a few more of the distant cousins, but had gone against the idea when the realisation that including Lily Potter meant including Molly Weasley. Molly wasn't bad, per say, she was just a lot to deal with. Especially when drunk. There were  _ stories _ .

Bellatrix poured herself another drink, but paused when she noticed Cassiopeia watching her.

“What?”

“You’re drinking.” Cassiopeia pointed out with an amused smirk.

“Yes, that’s what we do on ladies night.” Bellatrix almost snarled. 

She hadn’t noticed that they were pulling everyone else’s attention to them, but Cassiopeia had.

“We get shit faced and complain about the idiots that we’re surrounded by.” Bellatrix continued. “Then we all go home to those idiots and ward off questions for  _ days _ . All while we deal with a headache because no hangover potion really works against elvish wine. So excuse me for doing just that, and getting shitfaced!”

“Bella!” Druella admonished, only slightly scandalised by her eldest’s language. She had raised her after all, and knew Bellatrix swore like a sailor when she wasn’t teaching.

Bellatrix groaned and took a healthy swig of her wine when she realised she had attracted everyone's attention. She rubbed her hand over her face and tilted her head back to stare at the ceiling.

“I got my soul mark.”

She didn't see the grins she knew were there. She already knew everyone was happily smiling except Narcissa. Narcissa had always understood her better than anyone else. Bellatrix ignored the voices congratulating her until she felt cold hands take hers. Narcissa knelt in front of her, her blue eyes shining with unshed tears. Everyone else had stopped talking.

“It's a student, isn't it? A first year?”

Bellatrix sighed and downed the rest of her wine. She pulled Narcissa up and into her lap. She hugged the sister that was always there for her, that was always understanding of her life choices.

Father hadn't been pleased when she blew Rodolphus off to become a bounty hunter. He'd even taken it rather personally when she bagged the Lestrange brothers and wrapped them up in a nice bow to be sent to Azkaban. Narcissa had stood up for her and thrown quite the fit when Cygnus suggested disowning Bellatrix. He'd been forced to stand down or face Narcissa refusing to marry Lucius. At the time Cygnus had no idea they were soulmates. Bellatrix had been the only one Narcissa had confided that fact too.

Bellatrix tucked her head against Narcissa's shoulder.

“Yes. Some kid the same age as  _ Draco _ is meant to be my soulmate. I don't even know who it is, and I'm not sure if I want to. Is it better to know and be forced to teach them anyway, or not know and spend the next six years wondering who it is, only to probably never see them again?” Bellatrix explained miserably.

“Well fuck.”

“Mother!” Andromeda snapped in shock.

“Sometimes you just need to swear, dear.” Druella said calmly. “No matter what, Bellatrix, you are my daughter. I will admit that I didn't do as much as I should of when Andromeda found Ted, but I won't make the same mistake again. We are all here for you, and you had best believe that we're here to stay. As unfortunate as the timing is for meeting your soulmate, the important part is that you have one.”

Cassiopeia cackled. “This is why you're my favourite, Bella. You don't do anything the easy way.”

“Oh shut up, Aunt Cassi.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was going to be one chapter, but I got to the end of first year and it was over 8000 words. So later years will have to be in a separate part.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello readers. I started this when I should have been working more on Lady Magic, but I had a really bad week and this is what made me happy, so here we are.
> 
> Updates for this story won't be regular as the chapters will tend to vary in length, but I'm going to have a lot of fun with it.
> 
> Anyone is more than welcome to suggest various AUs for Hermione to find herself in, though I already have a few. I just love the idea of world hopping soulmate love.   
> Also, no, not every chapter will be as bleak as this first one, though they did meet in Azkaban, so it was a little expected.


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